


القمر والنجم وسماء الليل (al-qamar wannajm wasama' allayl)

by houfukuseisaku



Category: Evillious Chronicles
Genre: Multi, Semi-Canon Compliant, because i really really Really love meta salmhofer, i am both awaiting and dreading the (hypothetical) upcoming oss novel, inspired by the discord of evil, starlit bear is my new fav ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 19:51:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17587304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houfukuseisaku/pseuds/houfukuseisaku
Summary: The moon, the star, and the night sky.What "love" means to the three people who never truly understood it until it was too late.





	القمر والنجم وسماء الليل (al-qamar wannajm wasama' allayl)

**Author's Note:**

> Under the light of the moon, the star, and the night sky.  
> With a silenced voice and an outstretched hand that couldn’t reach.  
> My final thought, before darkness and shadows consumed me as they have tried to, all my life.

The gods are fickle. The gods are cruel. The gods brought us all together, only to tear us apart.

Only to tear me apart.

I wasn’t born. No, I was made. I emerged into the world, fully-formed, at the tender age of six, and already I knew words and I knew things and I knew purpose. My purpose. To destroy the gods and all creation, to let the abyss of HER whisper flow freely through my body and mind and heart and soul.

I was made to destroy. I was made to rip, tear, kill, destroy—and that was all I knew.

No. That’s a lie. I knew many other things as well. As much as I needed, to understand and fulfil my purpose.

To that end, I also knew love. But the knowledge of love given to me, cursed upon me, was warped.

To me, love was the deep crimson of blood spilled by my hand. To me, love was the embers of a roaring fire left in my wake. To me, love was the shadows and the night, pitch-black as they hid me, concealed me, embraced me, protected me.

To me, love was hate, and hate was love, irreconcilable, incomprehensible, something selfish and weak. Human. A creation of the gods.

Something I needed to destroy.

But I was still so young then, and I was foolish. And there were days when I managed to ignore screams of the burning blood in my ears. Before I was poisoned, before I had let myself drown in it completely. Those days were very far and very few in between, but I cherished them, nonetheless.

Because it was during those days that I met the two of you. Because it was during those days when I managed to glimpse the light beyond the pitch-black of a shadowy night.

I remember it so well, even now. When it was one of the precious days where I could almost pretend to be normal, my caretakers had brought me to the capital city. It was a day of celebration, though of what I did not know and never cared to find out, and there were parades in the streets.

I saw the Queen, sitting on her high horse and happily waving to her people despite the immense sorrow in her eyes that I thought only I could see, and I had to desperately ignore the urge to kill her right then and there, out of pity or hate I did not know and never cared to find out.

There were many people, and they all loved the Queen. They were very loud. Too loud. I couldn’t stand it, I couldn’t breathe, so like the pitiful little delusional child I was then, I ran away and got myself separated from my custodians, lost in the bustle of the city.

And that was when I first met him. Blue eyes and blue hair like the evening sky turning to night. For some reason, he looked sad too. Almost as sad as the Queen on her high horse. He took my hand without a word and led me through the maze of noise and chaos. Where he was taking me, I did not know and never cared to find out, so long as it was away. Away from the city and its people and its miserably-joyful Queen.

We ran until we couldn’t, and then we were there, at the edge of the forest.

“This is my favourite place,” I remember him saying, wondrous and wistful and yet world-weary, “my sanctuary, my haven. A place untouched by the evils of my kingdom.”

His words struck me to my core. His kingdom? Was he the prince, then? Was the two-faced Queen his mother, then?

I felt the urge to destroy him, but when I turned to face him with a dagger of shadows already in hand, he was gone.

That was when I understood that even the moon has its shadows, no matter how high up it hung in the sky.

Little did I know that I would cross paths with him again, someday.

I don’t know what it was about him, but I took those words to heart. I never went back to my caretakers, and they never searched for me. I spent more and more time at that border between forest and civilization, and as I grew older, I grew bolder, venturing deeper into the woods with nothing more than the clothes on my back and the desperate, futile longing to deny my true nature.

And then I met her.

If he was the moon, solemn and reflective in his pensive glow, then she was a star, radiant and bright in the sparkling of her eyes. He was full of a sorrow I couldn’t comprehend, and she was full of a joy I couldn’t stand. Where I was lost when I met him, she was lost when I met her, wandering the forest alone so far from any of the usual trails.

I had thought to avoid her at first. I had gone so long without human contact that the burning blood had become mercifully silent. But the moment I laid my eyes on her, I knew I had to save her.

From myself, at the very least.

The whole time I led her back to where she claimed she had come from, I had to ignore and deny the screaming of the abyss within me. But the struggle was easier, much easier than I thought it would’ve been, for she had plenty to say in my silence. She spoke of the plants and the flowers and the animals, she spoke of the moon and the stars and the sky, she sang of hope and love and magic that fills you up with joy.

Funny. My magic never did anything but drain my emotions and fill me with empty regret.

Her voice was like a gentle breeze, soothing and melodious. I almost couldn’t let her go, when we reached the end of our journey. But let her go I did, and I turned away far too quickly for her to say goodbye.

It was for the best.

I remember it so well, those days.

The very last time I was happy, in a very long time.

My next years were spent in a haze. I returned to the city and gave myself over to the authorities, shuttled from orphanage to orphanage, kicked out of homes and left to roam the streets, caught again and sent back again. Always, always, always, they pointed at me and laughed and sneered and cried and screamed.

Demon, they called me, witch, sinful girl!

So be it, I thought, and I gleefully accepted the name they have given, cursed unto me.

Those years were when I learned, no, when it was burned into my being, my very core, that it was better to hurt than be hurt. Better to kill than be killed. Better to destroy than be destroyed.

So long I had tried to deny those urges in my youth. How foolish I was. If the world called me evil, then who was I to deny it? Better to embrace the whispers and laugh in the face of it all as the fires of hatred consume me than to walk alone in a frozen wasteland, desperately searching for even an ember of warmth in love.

Humans need air to survive. Humans need water, and food, and shelter, and warmth.

Humans do not need love.

That was what I burned into myself, every waking moment, every dreamless sleep. With every life I took and stole and bargained with and ended.

I don’t need love.

That mantra was what kept me going, even as I met him. Pale Noël, Master of Malice, leader of the Apocalypse. A man with ambitions and the means to achieve it.

I admired him, but I don’t think I ever loved him, because I simply hadn’t truly understood what it meant, back then. It was only because he reminded me of _him_ , I think. A full moon hidden by darkness.

—I was deluded, and I desperately clung onto that memory of long ago.

His love was my love. I was his weapon and his shadow. Everything I did was for his sake. I was his most useful pawn.

But pawns are made to be sacrificed.

His love was a tightening grip around my neck. His love was the threat of punishment and pain. His love was the scars left all across my front and back. His love was cold and emotionless and nothing like fire or flame. Nothing like I was used to.

His love was my hate, and his hate was my love.

But I did have… moments of brief respite. Because she was there, always by my side.

The White Demon of Jakoku, third head of the Netsuma Clan, Raisa Netsuma.

She reminded me of _her_ , almost. Stars covered up by clouds.

—I was deluded, and I desperately wanted to believe and not forget.

If I was Pale’s shadow, then she was mine. We did everything together. All the innocents we’ve threatened, all the bombs we’ve set off, all the chaos we’ve wrought, all the people we’ve killed, all the fire and death we’ve left in our wake, we did it together.

She was the closest thing I had to a friend, as much as a person like me could have one.

Perhaps, she could have been something more.

Perhaps, we could have been something more.

…But then, that fateful day occurred.

The riots. The screaming. The blood.

And I, frozen in my indecision, foolishly torn between the past and the present, could only watch as Raisa was struck down. In my grief, I lashed out at the two of you, maddened by loss as you were, and before they could take me away, I made sure that Pale would take one of you in my stead.

Perhaps I had hoped he would use you as a bargaining chip to free me. Ha, what a fool I was. I was a pawn, sacrificed for nothing. The country had no use for damaged goods, as it were, and so one of you were left languishing in his grasp and the other left all alone in an empty home while I…

I was tempted by that snake.

And how easily I fell for his lies.

I had separated the two of you and gained what you had lost. The most selfish thing I’ve ever done. While I lived a life of comparative luxury, I knew that the two of you were lost in despair. I knew, and I did nothing. Nothing!

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

It took until the twins were born before I realized my mistake. The weight of my sins, crawling on my back. How I’ve betrayed you both with nary a second thought.

How much I truly, truly, truly loved the two of you.

I did what I could. I snuck out of the Institute and broke into my old gang’s hideout, where I found you, nearly wasted away. I hated myself more than anything then. But there was no time for regrets. I made sure to burn everything down as I carried you out and away, so weightless you were that I feared that death had already taken you. But I could still hear your heartbeat, and so I ran like the coward I was. Apocalypse burned, and I never looked back.

It was night when I left you at the cottage’s door. I had wanted to stay by your side a little longer, but I couldn’t.

I had to save my children as well.

Just a little longer, and the five of us could live happily ever after in that forest, that sanctuary, that haven untouched by the evils of the magic kingdom.

Alas, it was not meant to be.

On the night of the full moon, under the starless sky, I had my twin babies in my arms, and I thought all was well. You’d both be angry, yes, but I deserved it. And I thought that I could make up and repent for my sins by protecting and living with the two of you, happily, free from my past and the burning blood screaming nevermore.

I couldn’t just show up at your doorstep unannounced, I thought. I had to at least bring a gift, a peace offering, a proof of my love. So, I had gently placed my precious children on the forest floor, and I had gone off, looking for red fruits the colour of my love.

Because my love wasn’t blood, or fire, or shadow anymore.

My love was the moon, the star, and the night sky.

My life had been one mistake after another. But my love wasn’t a mistake, isn’t a mistake.

Even as you took them, maddened by loss as you were.

Even as you struck me down, drowned in grief as you were.

Even as the truth, with its claws and fangs, was lost to the unlit night.

My love isn’t a mistake.

But everything else was.

_I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry._

Inhuman beings like me have no use for human gods, but still, I prayed to every deity that would listen. To the twin dragons, to the thousand-year tree, even to the demons and the forgotten one.

_Please, save yourself as you had saved me._

_Please, live on, keep living on._

Under the light of the moon, the star, and the night sky.

With a silenced voice and an outstretched hand that couldn’t reach.

My final thought, before darkness and shadows consumed me as they have tried to, all my life.

_I’m sorry, Adam, Eve—_

_I never got to say,_

**_“I love you.”_ **


End file.
